Today’s blog is a simple one. I have one thing which I need to know– why do men not like to donate to charities? I never really thought about it before getting involved in this current volunteer phase of my life. And the evidence I have points to men just not giving the same attention to this part of life as women.
Beyond The Drink
The streets of Santa Marta
It is a fact of life here that some days when I leave the hostel to go anywhere, I pass kids on the streets who are smoking crack or ice. A local tells me that it is something a little different el ninos take, but just as potent and addictive. These kids are around ten years old – smokin’ the pipe. Then they scurry wide eyed and manic, hustling and begging, snatching and selling around the dark, dodgy
Hiding away from blogging because….
First there was the virus. It has ravaged me little website. It keeps coming back. It’s like a drunken bum that hangs around the back of a pub, sniffing the warm scent of stale beer buried in the plastic bins. It stays active, pumps itself full of virus steroids, and gets back into the Sober Paddy central nervous system. Then it kicks the shit out of it. Pummels it with leather clogs across the cranium. It spews into it’s bowels
Beautiful Thoughts
This post is a little random today. I include it because my sister Ellen quoted me a poem I wrote, which she sent back to me last week when I was feeling down. I was really touched by this and it cheered me up no end. The essence of the poem is that life is a mess, turns out in a way you never considered possible, but also that no matter what happens you have to stay positive and look at the bright side. We all have a dance to dance and a reason
So Over It
I spend the days like this – In torpor. Torpor is when your brain is glue, your words are mud, your legs feel like slushy plop and your emotions are a bag of second hand sandals. I feel like a mango that has been smuggled down the top of an octogenarian slut, who has no chicken fillets left to fill her off-white brassier. I might as well play bingo in a hall, on my own, with a packet of monster munch
How to write a blog.
There comes a time in everyone’s life when they feel like they want their opinions to be heard. When this moment comes to you beware – you could be scooping up dog poo with your hand covered in a blue plastic bag when it hits you. It could be as you are toweling your saggy pallid torso after a short cool shower on a hot Autumnal day that the light clicks on in your twisted brain. It could hit you as you are parking someone else’s car between a Porsche and a Ferarri. When you get this feeling…this “of course people would love to know about my journey into Gnostic mysticism